Mirial, giving another chance.
The rounds broke the smoke around him with an obvious lack of accuracy. The Padawan’s ‘trip’ was in full swing, and the fact he could even manage to fire in The Slave’s direction was impressive enough, let alone the fact one of them hit. It was the second time he’d been hit so far, his only saving grace being the thin plates of phrik that coated most of his body; saving the tender muscle beneath for another few minutes.
With a sigh at the landing of his own hits, The Slave quickly moved to readjust his direction. He was no novice, and just as he had done the same in a three way battle with a Sith Lord and Dark Jedi Master, he knew staying in the same position was a sure fire way to die; even if your opponent was under the influence and a few steps behind either of those previous opponents. Darting to the right, he’d reposition himself in the smoke and watch the Jedi move about a few more steps, likely hoping to get himself to even a moment of an advantageous position.
The Slave wasn’t impressed yet, still finding some semblance of mercy in his heart for the young enemy. This ‘mercy’ manifested not in an unfamiliar attack shrouded in darkness and nightmares, but the same strike that came before; he’d give him yet another chance to turn the tides of the battle. With footfall breaking the rubble beneath him, he rushed towards Dusaro with another horizontal strike; one which carried the same technique, the same force, the same nature as the first.
Honestly, he just wanted to see how he’d react.
[member="Dusaro Dresari"]
Halfway across the sector, cutting down a fleet.
[
The Technicolor Beat ]
Cybele had been waiting for ships to move to open combat, as the cloaking they used stopped any chance of an accurate shot. In truth, she only intended to destroy a fleet that fled the planet; but engaging in combat would suffice for the time being. Afterall; she'd already been waiting long enough to fill her boredom, what was a little foreplay before the main event? So her computerized thoughts moved to preparing the ship to its final stages of firing, establishing the firing arc, and setting themselves up for the barrage.
First came the slow churn of the reactors moving into overdrive. A series of power systems turned low to prepare for the full barrage from the Technicolor Beat, a ship entirely meant for long range combat. Cybele, the ship’s AXIOS AI idly prepared the calculations in only a few moments before setting the rest of the actions into motion.
Second came the stillness space held, its cold vacuum offering no warning to what was to come. Each of the four hellbore cannons began to spool and prepare for their first barrage while the massive main proton beam cannon began to vent its exhaust. Metaphorically, it was the trumpets announcing death, apocalypse far from outside the standard combat area the many fought in.
Third was its arrival.
Just as the Jedi saw the Sith to be full of sin and destructive behavior against her Empire’s people, so too did Cybele see any action against The Slave and what he held close to be morbidly cruel. She, this humanized computer, would rain down righteous fury the likes of which few had ever seen; even amongst the most experienced of naval commanders. It was in this singular, long range shot that judgement would be offered, demanded even, and her anger would be cast out upon the world.
Each Hellbore began their rhythmic firing process, shooting a grand total of eight energy torpedos per second. Travelling at nearly 20% the speed of light, the projectiles would soar through the abyss to their predetermined targets; those being the largest ships of the Destroyer Group Romero. The rounds that sought to end their existence were massive, destructive, and were perfectly engineered to tear through not only the shields these ships had, but the armor beneath too. Over the course of thirty seconds, over 240 shots made their way downrange, each able to decimate whatever they hit.
However, that was not where the destruction would end.
For the sake of the ship’s design, it held two massive experimental reactors to power its main guns and the extremely advanced AI aboard. What wasn’t given to the hellbores during their fire process went to the main proton beam cannon, a weapon so destructive in nature it was once known to scorch planets when given the command. This true call to destruction broke the chains that bound it, and let loose the skyquake echo it should be known for.
The singular, massive shot sped through space at the rear of the Hellbore rounds, towards the main star destroyer Akula. Guided by the advanced calculations given at a moment's notice by Cybele, each of the rounds were given an extreme probability of hitting their target when considered with speed and aiming adjustments; yet there was a weakness to this main gun barrage Cybele let loose.
For a few moments, a few very key moments, the god killer known as The Technicolor Beat went silent in the distance; with it the AI known as Cybele. It’d be a few moments before it came online, and a few moments longer before its cybernetic captain regained binary consciousness. It could only be hoped that the assault had some effect, and it was not all for naught.
[member="Arisa Yune"]
